rosarianoath

[She likes it. It earns him a kiss that's more affectionate than anything, and she reaches down between them to position his cock so that she doesn't snap it in half by sitting down at the wrong angle.

She can't help but take the opportunity to tease, rubbing his head between her lips.]

Forgive me. I think I've forgotten what it is that you want so desperately.

[Founder, she feels good. He groans right against her mouth, then says, somewhere between a demand and a plea:]

Ride me.

[Both sound good to her ears. She loops her arms over her shoulders and kisses him again as she sinks down, moaning against his mouth. He fills her perfectly, every time.]

Why do you ever pull yourself out from me?

[Heavenly. His hands settle around her hips, squeezing, fingers digging in just to feel her flesh under his hands.]

So I can go back in deeper.

Sometimes it feels like you might split me in half.

[Not a complaint as she lifts herself up before slowly letting him slide into her again.]

[He finds himself looking down, between their chests, and he sinks back onto his elbows just to watch the length of her body gyrate up and down, how slowly his cock is stuffed back into her. Truly heavenly.]

You like it? How big I am inside you?

Of course.

[He's enjoying the view, and so she leans back to put her hands on his thighs rather than his chest for leverage as she rolls her hips.]

No one's compared.

[His gaze roves around her — the softness of her thighs splayed around him, the pretty slope of her hips to her waist, the humble swell of her breasts. He presses up into her hard, as if he could be any deeper.]

You think of me while they’re inside you? While they struggle to reach where I’ve gone?

[Fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs as she grinds down, slow and heavy.]

I always think of you.

[Whether she likes it or not.]

[He’s seldom thought of her. His mind shies away from it, too pained. Now, she’s the center of all his attention, and he’s her ballast to rock against. The grinding doesn’t feel half as good as the sensation of her sliding down onto him, but he knows it’s good for her, and being used for that is delicious in its own way. Hot.]

I am not prone to possessiveness, but to think of you with another… [There’s a flicker of tightness on his expression, halfway to a groan. He tilts up into her, giving her a bit more pressure.] I feel such fury, such a need to call you mine…

I wish you'd been more possessive.

[Maybe then he wouldn't have thought letting her go was the right thing to do. He would want to keep her. Being wanted means more to Jill than she knows how to articulate, but is it any wonder after being ripped away from the arms of her loved ones again and again?]

[Only being balls deep can make him ask so impulsively:]

What right do we have to claim others for ourselves?

We don't. But with you and I...

[It's different. She shifts so she can lean down and kiss him softly, lifting her hips so they can both enjoy the slow pull and push.]

Being yours was a comfort. I would welcome you to be my master, my lord, my anything. My everything.

[Is it different? He feels to his bones an animal desire to keep her under him as long as it takes to leave her with child, and yet a revulsion at the idea of being her master. He murmurs, just off her lips:]

Mine to enjoy and love, not mine to possess.

If you have my heart, you possess me.

[And he does.]

[And yet... they aren't together.

Clive has nothing more to say on that front. He just makes his point, fucking up into her and gripping her harder, his kiss near smothering.]

[Point taken. Jill moans into his mouth, finding a near-frantic rhythm with him, lips only leaving his when she needs to gasp for air. They aren't together, no, but she can at least give him the release of another climax.]

[And climax he does — it’s a big, throbbing affair, continuing to fuck her as he does, his come sliding messily out of her as he does, his grip on her tightening to the point of just squeezing her.

He very nearly curses.]

Jill…

[If only he could have such bliss in every waking moment. Jill kisses her name off his lips before nuzzling his cheek with her nose, enjoying the sensation of Clive spent beneath her.]

If there's anything left in you, I will be thoroughly impressed.

[Her bed is soaked from sweat, the bath, their fluids... mostly his, she's sure.]

[He wants to protest — they have all night, and he wants to use it, but he does feel spent. He hums a reluctant agreement, one hand spanning up her back.]

I just need to rest… or, that part needs rest, at least.

[She hums, amused. She might need a little rest herself, lest she be made raw by his enthusiasm. She seems content to stay spread out on top of him, however, fingers moving to stroke his cheek.]

I've missed you.

[They've established that already, but she can't stop herself from saying it again.]

[He turns his head into her touch, mouth bumping against her palm. His eyes settle on hers, softening slightly, even if he doesn’t reply beyond kissing her hand. His grip on her with his other hand is tight, wanting to stay close.]

[She has no intention of leaving.]

Sometimes I like to think there must be another Clive and Jill out there. Some other world where we stayed in that flower field. Or where we lived different lives altogether, but still found one another.

[He kisses her wrist and murmurs:]

There is no one else like you in all creation. I’m sure of it.

Then the same must be true of you, too.

[And they can't just... be this.]

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